


I've Got A Dark Alley And A Bad Idea

by catteo



Category: Rookie Blue
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-21
Updated: 2012-11-21
Packaged: 2017-11-19 04:42:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/569215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catteo/pseuds/catteo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It starts at a bar. And it’s definitely not a date, but there’s a dark alley and things kind of escalate.</p>
<p>Written for the porn battle. Prompts: whiskey, bar, scratch.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I've Got A Dark Alley And A Bad Idea

They’ve been dancing around this for weeks, the give and take, the thrill of the chase. It started with drinks at the Penny after a tough shift, blonde heads just a little too close, laughter a little too loud. She’s not sure how they ended up at this crappy bar round the corner from his apartment, but it’s packed and noisy and, for once, Gail doesn’t care about keeping up appearances. She’s anonymous here, and it’s bliss. Freedom.

“You want a drink?” Luke leans down and practically shouts it in her ear to be heard. She tries to ignore the heat of his breath on her neck, concentrates on keeping a distance between them. They’re already half-drunk but this place is apparently on the way home and he insisted. If she’s honest she didn’t put much effort into tuning him down.

“Whiskey. Straight.” Some idiot jostles her as she speaks, her face just glancing Luke’s neck. A smudge of neon red appears on his jawline. Marks him as hers as surely as a brand. He nods and flashes her a grin, vanishes into the mass of people. She wonders if this just turned into a date. Rolls her eyes at her own idiocy.

She eases herself up onto a high barstool, hooks the heels of her stilettos over the bar at the base and gazes around at the crowd. Sees groups of friends gathered around tables, heads thrown back with laughter, couples holding hands as they navigate through the press of bodies. There’s a dancefloor at the back, people moving to the insistent thrum of the bass. She allows herself a second to wonder if Luke would go out there with her before she shuts the thought down. They’re not even dating. He probably doesn’t dance anyway.

“Sorry. The queue was endless.” Luke’s balancing four glasses precariously in his hands, all nearly overflowing. She extricates the nearest two and arches an eyebrow.

“If I didn’t know any better, Homicide, I’d say you were trying to get me drunk. Well, drunk _er_.” Said with considering gaze and a pout. 

He laughs at that, cheeks dimpling, blue eyes flashing. Gail’s suddenly certain that she’s not the only one who plays a part at work. She feels like he’s let her in on a secret. That this is the real Luke, giving her a languid smile, spreading slow across his face like molasses. 

He leans in close, brings his head down so that their eyes are level. Stares right into her eyes, face suddenly serious. 

“Maybe I am.”

She tries her best to ignore the heat in her stomach at his proximity. Feels her pulse hitch up several notches. She toasts him with a sardonic look and one of her overly full glasses, downs half of it in one gulp. Relishes the burn at the back of her throat. It’s almost a relief when he leans back against the table and looks away. His face is unreadable and suddenly she’s lost for words. Concentrates instead on studying the table, swirling patterns into the liquid running off her glass, condensing on the table in the heat of the room. 

“Hey, you okay?” His concern sounds ridiculous shouted across a table.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I feel kind of drunk though.” A sense of relief runs through her as he chuckles.

“Drunk enough to dance?” So. That answers that question.

“Bring it, Homicide.” She knocks back the rest of her drink. Notices that he’s finished both of his. She sways a little on her heels as her feet hit the floor, grateful for a steadying hand under her elbow. Gail leans against him for a second, relishing the solid warmth of him, ignoring the slight shake of his barely suppressed laughter. She swats at his arm and hisses at him to shush.

“I’m fine. Come on, let’s do this.” She’s pretty certain the cool façade she usually manages to maintain has slipped to the point of vanishing. Oddly, she doesn’t even care. He backs away from her, and gestures towards the dancing, an exaggerated half-bow accompanying the smirk on his face.

“Shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything.” Mischief hidden behind his innocent expression.

“Yes. You did.” He rolls his eyes at this, grabs her hand and leads her to the dancefloor. Gail’s so focused on the feel of his palm against hers that she hardly notices as he pulls her right to the centre of the press of bodies. But she’s aware of the darkness slowly enveloping them, the bass taking up residence in her chest, the feel of his body pressed up against her side. She closes her eyes, takes a breath, and gives herself up to the _sensations_ of everything, slowly raises her arms and starts to move her hips. The music swallows her, drowns out the noise that usually runs incessantly through her head, leaves her with nothing but the beat. 

She doesn’t know how long she’s caught up in the moment. Suddenly long fingers slide across her hips, draw her slowly backwards. Eyes still closed, she recognises the smell of him, the weight of his body behind her. She feels a smile tug at the corners of her mouth as she leans into his chest. She can feel the moment his breath hitches as she grinds her hips backwards and she grins, lower lip caught in her teeth. A victory of sorts.

“Gail” His voice is rough in her ear, lower than normal, laced through with want and need. She feels it low in her belly, a jolt that flares inside her. 

“Gail, turn around.” It doesn’t even occur to her not to, even as she realises that this is the point of no return. She doesn’t care, feels her body responding to the need in his voice. Slowly she turns to face him, forces her eyes to open. Her gaze fixes for a second on the stain of red on his neck and she wonders what he would do if she added to it. She breathes deep, raises her eyes to his. His pupils are blown, his intentions so clear that it almost takes her breath. She stills, the music replaced with the white noise rushing through her head.

“Gail.” She can’t even hear him. Only knows he said her name because she sees his lips move. He’s still got both hands on her hips, pulling her closer until there’s nothing between them but denim and cotton. She’s never seen him like this, so focused. For a split second she thinks she can hardly stand the scrutiny, like he can see right through her, see the truths she takes such care to hide.

One of his hands starts to move, slides slowly up her side, dragging heat with it, her skin burning under his touch. She feels a thumb brush against the swell of a breast as he slides it up to her neck. Her breath catches as his fingers tangle with the hair at the nape of her neck. He tilts her chin up towards him. She tries to swallow, suddenly, ridiculously nervous. It’s _Luke_ for God’s sakes. _Luke_ , ducking slightly, staring at her like he doesn’t care that he’s drowning and she’s the ocean.

Suddenly his lips are on hers and everything else fades away. It’s rougher than she expected, more insistent, demanding. He tastes of whiskey and desire. Her arms hook around his neck as she pushes up onto her toes, pulling him closer, allowing her to press herself along the entire length of him. Every time his tongue sweeps against hers she feels her body respond. And then suddenly there’s nothing but empty air and the feel of his forehead pressed to hers.

“So…” Suddenly he’s got nothing to say. Gail wants his lips back on hers so badly it’s almost a physical ache, but she’s suddenly aware of the fact that they’re in the middle of a public place and she’s rapidly losing her self-control.

“Yeah. Well, that happened.” She’s gratified when he chuckles. She pulls her head away far enough to look at him. His mouth is smeared with her lipstick and she’s willing to bet that hers doesn’t look much better. She licks the pad of her thumb, rubs it slowly across his lower lip, gratified when his eyes slide closed, feels the sigh against her hand.

“You want to get out of here?” She nods emphatically, rewarded with a genuine smile. Luke grabs her hand and pulls her towards a side exit. They weave through the crowd with surprising speed, outside in seconds. 

Gail takes in a deep breath of cool night air as the door closes behind her, the sound of the music suddenly muffled as it shuts. She stops walking, tugs on Luke’s hand as he goes to walk out of the side alley towards the main street. He turns to face her and she slowly backs him further into the night, up against the wall, feels the jolt through her arms as he halts against brick. His eyes are dark, glinting with suppressed laughter, eyebrows raised.

“What’s the matter, Homicide? You in a hurry to get somewhere?” This is better. Familiar ground. She feels like the world shifted in that bar and suddenly everything between them has changed. It’s not as though she hasn’t thought about this. At length. It’s just suddenly so real that she can barely process the thoughts stumbling over each other in their eagerness to be heard.

“Well, I do have this apartment two blocks away.” He tails off as she leans closer. “Or, you know, here is good too.”

Gail’s pretty sure that this time she’s the one that instigates it. She’s up on her toes, fingers threading through his hair. She can feel the scratch of stubble against her cheek. Wonders how it would feel on her thighs. His hands run up her back, fingers snaking into the space between the small of her back and her jeans. She feels him slide his hand under the elastic of her underwear. Moans quietly into his mouth as she feels his hand warm against the skin of her ass.

He hitches her slightly towards him and inches a thigh between her legs. The gentle pressure makes her realise how wet she already is and she surges towards him, searching out the friction she craves. This time he’s the one that groans, sighing out her name on a stuttering breath. Gail focuses her attention on the lipstick mark on his neck, turns it into a statement of ownership, a reminder he’ll wear for days. She feels a rush at the thought.

The harsh sound of their breathing punctures the night. Luke catches her lips again with his, slides his hand around to the button of her jeans as he kisses her. The quiet snap has he moves his fingers down echoes like a shot in her head. She slides a hand under his shirt, feels the hard planes of his skin, runs her palm across the raised scar tissue she finds there. She gasps as his lips find her neck, tongue running down to her collarbone. His hand has stilled and she moves her hips towards him, demanding.

“Impatient, aren’t we?” Gail doesn’t trust herself to find her voice. Settles for a shrug and an innocent look. He raises his eyebrows at her. She knows she’s not fooling either of them. Wants this so badly she’s almost ashamed. Somehow he spins her round and suddenly she’s the one with her back against the wall. Feels the scratch of brick against her shoulders, eyes sliding closed as his weight presses against her.

This time one of his hands slides her jeans over the curve of her ass, down to where they catch on her thighs. She can’t quite believe that this is Luke, stripping her of her clothes in an alley. Doesn’t have time to analyse it any further as her underwear follows her jeans and finally she feels his hand on her skin. Her head hits the wall hard as he slides a finger through slick, wet heat, hips jerking into the palm of his hand.

Luke pulls her head back towards him, bites gently on her lower lip as his fingers work slowly against her, into her. She breathes in a groan on a shuddering inhale, forehead on his shoulder as she grinds down onto his fingers. He’s whispering into her ear, words of encouragement she has no real need of. He moves his thumb forwards as she pushes against him, and suddenly she’s right on the edge, pressure building at her centre. She bites down hard on the bunched muscles of his shoulder as she comes, fighting to muffle the noises trying to escape her.

They’re both breathing hard and she manages a shaky giggle as she finally risks a look at his face. He’s looking at her like he’s never seen her before. She knows how he feels, doesn’t really recognise the knowing smile on the face looking back at her. She reaches her hand out towards him, covers the space between them in a moment. One hand snakes around his neck, pulls him down for a messy kiss, the other works at the zipper of his jeans. He stills as the sound of it whispers through the night. Knocks his head against hers as she slides a hand into his boxers.

She doesn’t even take the time to push his jeans down, just guides him towards her. She feels a sudden spike of triumph as he moves against her, bucking in her hand, mumbling expletives in her ears. Suddenly his hands are back on her hips, lifting her roughly against the wall as he presses closer against her. Her thighs wrap around his hips, ankles locking together as he pushes into her, one slick movement that makes her gasp. 

Every thrust pushes her hard against the wall. She keeps reminding herself to breathe, struggles to drag in air as Luke bottoms out. She can feel brick, rough as sandpaper, scratching at the smooth skin of her lower back. Pleasure-pain as Luke picks up the pace, both of them faltering as she works her tongue into his mouth. Somehow she works a hand down into the almost-space between them, roughly fingers herself. She can see Luke staring down at her, feel the hitch in his breath as he realises what she’s doing. Seconds later he groans against her neck and she feels it under her skin, vibrating along vessels and nerves. For a dizzying second she thinks she wants to feel him like this forever.

Finally he pulls back from her and her legs shake as he eases her to the ground. She keeps her eyes closed, focuses on remembering to inhale. Exhale. Hears the unmistakable sound of his jeans being zipped up. Finally she risks opening her eyes. He’s just standing there in the dark, hair standing out in all directions, lips bruised, red mark on his neck, smiling at her like a fool. She feels her own lips twitch in response, shrugs as she bends down to pull up her own jeans. 

“So, you know that apartment I mentioned?” She’s pretty certain there’s a genuine smile on her face now. She makes a non-committal sound in answer. “There’s a pretty great bed there. You know. Just saying.” She chuckles at that, loud in the quiet night.

“Smooth moves, Luke. Real smooth. We have sex in an alley and you just automatically assume that I’ll want to go back to your place.” She tails off at the expression on his face. He’s basically beaming at her. “What?”

“You called me Luke. You never call me Luke.”

“Whatever, Homicide. Don’t read too much into it.” The problem is that he’s totally right. But it’s going to get weird if she never uses his name. She doesn’t really want to analyse all the many ways in which this is insane. They just had sex in an alley for fuck’s sake. And she’s pretty much ready for round two, every intention of it being at his place. Doesn’t even want to think about the implications of that. He’s right up in her space again, hands on either side of her face, breathing the same air.

“You called me Luke.” He looks utterly smug, like he’s just won something. She huffs, exasperated and he just chuckles, presses a kiss to her temple. He threads his fingers through hers, tugs her tight up against him and leads her home.


End file.
